May Your Memory Never Fade
by McSquidster
Summary: When he died, all things soft and warm and beautiful and bright would be buried with him. Hobbit AU Oneshot because I'm Tolkien trash...


All that mattered was this very moment. There was no past, no future. There was only the present. Only a vast field full of the clashing of swords and the shrieks of those who were not quick enough to avoid or block their strikes. Only the chaos of thousands of bodies colliding, piercing, and falling. Only the wretched stench of blood and fear.

Natsu had never imagined that a real war would be so terrifying. He'd heard countless stories of calamity and of battle and of loss from his uncle and kin, of course, but none of their tales, none of their training, could have prepared him for the horror that swaddled and choked him now that he lie on the battlefield himself.

This was far from the first time he'd held a sword in his hand, fighting for his life and to protect his kin in battle. But this was certainly the first time he could see no end to the surge of enemies bearing down upon them; the first time he'd wondered how long a battle would last. Would it be hours before there was peace? _Days _even?

Time had already escaped him, it seemed, as he'd long since lost track of how long it'd been since he'd charged forth from the gates of Erebor with the rest of the company. But he didn't concern himself with worrying over it, nor did he let his concerns about the length of the battle linger in his mind for too long, because at last, there was finally an end in sight.

Not an end to the battle, no…but certainly an end to his part in it.

Only moments ago, his shield had been splintered, leaving him with no blockade other than his own body to use in his defense of his wounded uncle's unconscious form. His sword had been kicked far from his grasp and his neck seized in the grip of an orc who towered over him, his feet kicking about and finding only air as he had been lifted from the ground. For a moment, as black spots burned across his vision, he had thought that he would meet his end by suffocation.

But fate had always been just as cruel to his line as the orcs were, and his end would be met in a far more painful and prolonged fashion.

A blood-stained sword had suddenly been driven through his stomach before he'd been able to fade away from the world entirely, the sudden surge of pain stealing away what remained of his breath in a choked gasp and wrenching his mind back to sensibility.

The adrenaline in his veins had long since faded by then, leaving him victim to the unsilenced aches and cries of his wounds and exhaustion as his body crumpled into the dirt after the fingers of the hand strangling him had uncurled from around his neck.

Zeref had probably thought him dead already with the way he had collapsed limp and motionless to the ground. But, grievously, he had still been well aware of the world despite his pain, and he hadn't been able to do a single thing but watch on as his brother had charged forward, demanding vengeance and recompense in the form of orc blood.

"_Do you hear me, Moria scum?! You will answer for this!"_

With furious and grievous tears burning in his eyes, Zeref had surged into enemy lines to meet a fate much similar to his brother's own, falling only moments after he had declared revenge.

They now rested on the ground beside one another in their final moments, as Natsu knew they should at a moment like this.

They were brothers, and they belonged together, whether in live or in death.

* * *

Quiet tears cut through the grime and blood, both his own and that of the orcs, on Natsu's cheeks as he numbly watched Zeref's chest still, the subtle clinking of his brother's shredded armor as it shifted with his ragged breathing slowing until the sound was altogether gone. The salmon haired dwarf briefly, grimly wondered how he'd been able to hear such a quiet sound when battle still raged on around them, the whizzing of elven arrows through the air and the clanking of swords and axes as they clashed against one another and pierced shields fading into mere background noise as he clung to the one sound that spoke of his brother's fortune.

However, fortune, it seemed, was not in their favor.

Zeref was dead. Aulë had called him to the Hall of Mandos, and there, he would join their forefathers.

Despite the heavy sorrow in his chest, the slightest traces of a grin tugged at the corners of Natsu's lips without his knowledge as he briefly realized that things were just as they had always been when they were children; with him trailing after Zeref everywhere they went.

Just like in life, he would be would be following after his brother in death shortly, too, he knew.

This wasn't like the time he'd climbed a bit too high in the apple tree back at his home in The Blue Mountains as a dwarfling, when his uncle had been there to catch him as the branch snapped and he'd plummeted to the ground head-first.

This wasn't like the time he and Zeref had nearly drowned trying to save the ponies, either, when Gildarts had been there to pull his floundering body from the rushing waters of the river by his hood just as he'd felt consciousness slipping through his fingers.

Nor was this like the last time he'd received the type of wound one typically didn't recover from, when Zeref's strong and ever-reassuring grip had been there to ground him to reality as the poison from the morgul arrowhead in his thigh raced through his veins…And _she _had been there, too, shining with a brightness unlike any he'd ever seen; her light chasing away the darkness that had threatened to consume him and pull him away from all that he'd ever known and loved.

All of those times and countless more when he'd been on the brink of death…

This moment, however, wouldn't be added to that long, long account.

The company wasn't here to drag him out of danger, and for the first time in his life, Zeref wasn't here to shield him from any of the blows that rained down upon him.

_She_ wasn't here. She was far, far away from him, walking amongst the stars. He knew that that was where she belonged, not in a place as horrid as this battlefield.

This time…he was all alone.

He'd spent all of his life surrounded by his kin, and it seemed now that he was at journey's end, fate would cruelly deprive him of the one comfort he'd known since he was a babe.

He wouldn't be parted from his brother though, save for this short moment when he lingered a little longer in Middle Earth, and that was enough for him. And they hadn't gone out silently either, the blood of their lineage proving true and providing them with the most honorable of deaths in the end as they fought to defend their uncle's unconscious form with body and shield.

Atlas would survive, despite his wounds. He _had _to. They had just reclaimed Erebor, and The Lonely Mountain was nothing without its king.

Though, what state that King would be in when he officially reclaimed his throne remained in question, for he would wake to find that he had lost both of his sister's sons, the only remaining heirs of his line.

Natsu had often thought himself a disappointment in his uncle's eyes, but he had been proven false on that thought hundreds of times, namely by Zeref, though the other members of the company had certainly had more than their fair share of talking some sense into him when he reached his lowest lows. Atlas himself had affirmed his care for him more often on their journey than he ever had before, too, the peril and the danger they faced cracking the stone-cold resolve he was known for.

What his uncle and the rest of the company would be like once he and Zeref were gone, Natsu couldn't say, but they certainly wouldn't be the same. He and his brother were the tension-relievers and the troublemakers, more so him than Zeref since his brother had a more dignified role to fill as Atlas' direct heir. But, nonetheless, they were an essential part of the company, just as every member was, and he didn't think it was selfish of himself to claim that their absence would be felt heavily by those who remained.

But again, at least his worries for his brother would be set at ease, for he and his brother would be joining their forefathers together instead of one leaving the other behind to face the world alone in grief. Had only one of them died and not the other, he who had been left behind would have been lost, his other half stolen away far before his time.

Natsu was evermore beholden that things wouldn't end like that.

When Zeref had taken a sword through the chest and fallen beside him, the blood in his throat keeping him from speaking and making his eyes go wide with panic as it dawned on him that he could no longer breathe, Natsu had found himself numbly muttering the very words his brother had often uttered to him when they were children, when his sleep had been plagued with night terrors of the goblins and orcs from their uncle's stories.

"_You don't have to be afraid, brother. I'll stay with you until you fall asleep."_

And stay he had.

It wasn't as if he could move much anyways, with his own wounds staining his armor scarlet, but he had fought to remain lucid so he could sooth his brother's ease into the unknown. It was only right and just that he should do so, too, for Zeref had been everything that an older brother should and ought to be, though Natsu knew he could only _try _to provide some form of recompense for everything his brother had done for him.

So try he did, relentlessly fighting to forget the terror he felt because he knew that this time, once they fell asleep, there would be no morning to greet him and his brother anew.

* * *

The battle still raged on around him as far as Natsu could tell with his senses blurring into oblivion, though the distant screams ringing through the air were not those of his kin, but of their enemies. The dirt around him was bathed in the black blood of the orcs, bodies piling high on the battlefield as countless beings mindlessly fell for the cause for which they fought.

Another shriek, one that didn't seem to belong with the others, rang over the cacophony, and Natsu swore that the cry of heartbreak belonged to a voice he knew. But try as he might, he couldn't place it. His head was muddled, his mind struggling to grasp and thread the prospects passing through into cohesive thoughts.

But, once more, the voice cried out, and just like the last time the ethereal tones had whispered past his ears, the cadences penetrated through his veil of confusion and twisted turmoil of thought, enrapturing his every sense and ensnaring his attention to become the only thing tying him to the world.

"Natsu!"

It had been closer that time, and now that the shrieking of his name was somewhat more clear, he understood that he _must_ be hearing the calls of the afterlife, because _she _couldn't be here. She was too transcendent and divine to be in a place as horrid this, her screams of woe blending with those of the enemy as they fell.

Doubtful as he was, there was still hope festering within his chest, yet he couldn't even manage to turn his head to search for her. The once simple action felt impossible now, his body seeming to sink into the ground with how heavy his existence had become. Moving also meant more pain, and he didn't want to feel any more. He'd already felt enough, from both injury and loss.

He had to keep reminding himself that it would all be over soon, and once he had joined Zeref in the halls of their forefathers, pain would be but a distant memory.

His name rang through the air once more, and the sky above him, which was cold and gray, was overcome with light; long, curled locks of gold fluttered into his line of sight, the spectacle issuing one word, a name, from the midst of his jumbled head.

Lucy.

Her thin, wooden bow clattered to the ground right beside the shattered wood of his own as she sunk to her knees at his side, her hands, warm and soft, finding manifest on his cheeks as she leaned over him. Tears pooled in her gentle eyes, a few drops slipping free to run down her pale skin and cut rivers in the dust on her face.

He half-expected that other elf she was always with, the prince with the raven colored hair and glare as cold as ice, to be at her flank as he always seemed to be. But after only a moment, he realized that fate had spared him one last favor of fortune, and he was allowed to be with her and her alone during his final breaths.

When he tried to speak, his throat and lungs burned with the burden of dragging in the air necessary to do so, the corners of his bloodied lips quirking in the smallest of smiles as he hoarsely breathed out, "You found me."

He smiled for her because he knew she wouldn't understand, at least not at first. Elves were immortal. Death was beyond comprehension for her and her kind. To her, it would probably seem as if he'd been there, by her side, and then, suddenly, he would be gone, disappearing to a place she didn't know.

A tear pattered onto his cheek, and he realized then that he'd been wrong to assume that, his smile fading and giving way to something more bitter and grim, but still full of acceptance as he gazed up at her trembling form.

Death was not something she had the pleasure of being unacquainted with.

How she knew of such horror and tragedy when she belonged to an immortal people, he could not tell, but as he looked into her eyes, he knew that there was no need for him to tread lightly. She knew exactly what would become of him, exactly what the blood pooling around him on the dark dirt of the battlefield meant.

But still, she fought for him to stay.

Her brown irises, which had shown so brightly before, were now muddled with the grim fervency of the hopeless who know they have nothing to gain and yet strive ever onward, fighting for that brief and faint glimmer of hope which they know will slip from their grasp ere at the end. The warmth of one of her hands faded from his cheek, and only a moment later, her trembling fingers intertwined with his as she pressed a faint weight into the palm of the hand that rested numbly and motionlessly on his chest, her words escaping her in a whispered, quivering breath, "You…you cannot go…What of your promise?"

The carven stone weighed heavy in his hand, his blood-covered fingers aching to tracing over the familiar message as they had a thousand times since he'd left Ered Luin to join his uncle on the quest to regain a home he'd never known.

_Return to me. _

Somehow, Natsu knew that Lucy wasn't speaking of the promise he'd made her on the beach after the damned dragon Acnologia had scorched Laketown, when he had passed the stone into her possession. She was referring to the promise on which the stone was originally carved, the promise he'd forged with his mother before he and his brother had set out from the Blue Mountains to join their uncle's company.

His mother would be devastated and heartbroken, no doubt, for the news of their success in reclaiming their homeland would be overshadowed when she learned what had been lost in the battle to defend their triumph. But she would be proud of her sons, too, he knew, for they had fallen defending her elder brother with body and shield, and, as always, they had remained true to their loyalty to their kin.

"There…there is a promise that runs much deeper…" Natsu breathlessly huffed, his features no longer filled with pain but faintly alight with gladness as his mind managed to process recollection into comprehensive memory, "…one that was forged long, long ago..."

He felt as if he might choke on the words and blood in his throat, but he pressed forward, his voice escaping him in weak, strained breaths, "We promised…we promised our mother that we would not leave one another's side…"

He recalled his brother's words, the phrase that he had overheard Zeref quietly, but ever-steadfastly proclaim to their uncle when he had made the choice to stay behind instead of following Atlas into the mountain, and a gentle smile tugged at the corners of Natsu's lips as he uttered them once more for his own use, "…I…I belong with my brother."

At his words, Lucy's gaze numbly fluttered to the body that rested on his other side, her gaze settling on the black haired dwarf that she'd never uttered a word to, but that she knew meant more to Natsu than any other being in existence.

How could she not know who the dwarf was to him with the glares Natsu knew Zeref had shot her way during her every moment in their presence, save for when she had healed him? Her deeds in the bowman's house were the only instance she had earned any look from his brother other than one of distrust and animosity, but that truth was certainly no surprise to Natsu, for he didn't think there existed any being who could look upon such a sight and not gape in wonder.

"What you said to me before," she muttered, her gaze falling and her forehead nearly coming to rest on his chest, her thumbs continuing to mindlessly stroke his cheek comfortingly, "in the bowman's house, after I'd healed you…"

For a moment, his brows furrowed a fraction. Much of what he'd said while his existence had been in toil with the dark was lost to him, as if it had all been just a far-off memory or dream. But one image that rang incredibly and undeniably true in his mind was the image of her standing before him, her form flanked by a halo of the brightest, purest light he'd ever laid his eyes upon and her voice calling to him from a distant place as she recited Sindarin words of grace.

When her spell had been finished and his mind had begun its slow return to reality, he'd thought that she was a just vision, and the words he'd muttered then came flooding back to the forefront of his mind as he stared up at her tear-streaked and heartbroken face.

"_She is far away. She is far, far away from me. She walks in starlight in another world. It was just a dream. Do you think she could have loved me?" _

"I do think she could have," Lucy answered with trembling breath, her voice quivering as she forced her eyes to remain linked with his despite the tears and sorrow pooling in them, "She does love you…_I _love you_._"

His heart soared, and for the briefest moment, he let satisfaction race through him. Among his kin, he was known for his stubbornness, but he could count every moment and every feeling he had shared with Lucy among his small account of successes, for he knew that what he had felt for her wasn't in vain, that his feelings had led him true.

She swallowed before releasing a shaky breath, her thin lips gracing him with one last sight of her gentle smile, though the expression did not quite fully reach her eyes. Her irises still swam with tears as she pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead before resting her own forehead against his, her hands still cradling his cheeks as her eyes slid shut and she gently lamented, "Your memory will never fade."

He let his own eyes flutter shut as he relished in her touch and the words she had spoken.

He could envision it even now, with his mind on the cusp of the unknown. He and Zeref would be laid together in a one of the halls of Erebor, each tomb with its own inscription; two lives reduced to but a few sentences carved on cold stone.

Their longevity would not be found in memorials, but in the tales and songs that would follow their passing and speak of their great deeds; tales and songs like the ones he had listened to and cherished since he had first listened to his uncle muttered them as Atlas had cradled his then tiny nephews in a warm embrace while they fell asleep atop his chest.

Now, Natsu lay on the cold ground of a battlefield, meeting his end by living out the stories he had grown up on and finding that the reality of war was far from the glorious tales he'd been told.

But more tales and songs would soon be written about _this _day, about the glory and loyalty and willing hearts of the company of Atlas Flame, and in those stories, Natsu and his brother would live on.

In Lucy's unfading memories, too, he would find a form of immortality as pure and enduring as that of the elves.

His eyes remained shut, but he did not have to see to know where she resided, the warmth of her forehead against his guiding his movements as he sought to rest his hand upon her cheek, all of the warmth and softness he still possessed in his dying moment flooding his raspy voice as he breathed, "…May the stars…carry your sadness away..."

Though he felt he could still hold on for a moment longer, he let himself relax beneath her touch, his hand slipping from her cheek and falling back to his side as he began to give in to the weight pulling him ever lower. His decision on where to place his motives, on whether or not he would fight against his wounds to stay alive, had been made the moment Zeref died.

He was a prince and a nephew, a soldier and a son…Though he no longer held any allegiance to those titles because there would be nothing, nothing in the world if there was no Zeref.

They were brothers until the last sunset, until the last battle…Brothers until the last breath. And they would remain as brothers for forever, even once the gray curtain of this world was lifted and all turned to silver glass, a light on the water giving way to white shores and a far green country beneath a burning sunrise.

For death was just the beginning of another adventure.

* * *

**AN**

**Howdy! My brother and I have been marathoning all of the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings movies, and ever since I wrote Scarlet Heart, it's like my brain is programmed to try and fit the Fairy Tail characters into every movie I watch and every book I read, so that's kind of where this came from. And me, being Nalu trash, couldn't get the idea of Natsu and Lucy as Kili and Tauriel out of my head, especially since there's quite a few fanarts of Nalu using the "If this is love" quote, so...yeah...And now, I also really, really, really want to write a Fairy Tail Lord of the Rings AU, but y'all are probably sick of me writing adaptation AUs...**

**The summary was kind of meant to suffice as both Natsu's perspective on Zeref's death and as Lucy's perspective on Natsu's. And, i****n all honesty, I'm quite surprised that I wrote this fic myself, because I really, really, really **_do not _**like Tauriel. I mean, I probably would've grouchily accepted her and been more indifferent towards her if they hadn't changed Fili, Kili, and Thorin's deaths to accommodate to her presence in the story. But, they did, and if that one scene from Dean O'Gorman's audition tape is anything to go by, Fili and Kili's deaths were originally supposed to be _much _different. ****So this is kind of what I wished had happened in the movies, because in my opinion, Fili, Kili, and Thorin's deaths were nowhere near as emotional as they could've been if they had stuck to what happened in the book. Especially for Fili (and this might just be because Fili's tied with Bofur for my favorite dwarf), since they gave him the most insignificant death they possibly could. It should've been about family, but by making Kili's death more focused on Tauriel, Fili got jipped of the time his death deserved and we don't get to see Thorin be upset over the loss of his nephews...**

**So yeah...this was me kind of trying to be like #JusticeForFili while also hating myself for being kind of a hypocrite and including Lucy as Tauriel, but like I said, I'm Nalu trash...**

**Anyways, I hope you enjoyed even though it was sad! And thanks for reading! **


End file.
